Alien
by archetype.of.a.fangirl
Summary: The first time Molly Hooper sees Sherlock Holmes, she can't help but think he looks like an alien. Oneshot.


**So I took a minor break from Collision Theory to deliver some Sherlolly action hehe :) I hope you guys enjoy it!**

* * *

The first time Molly Hooper sees the elusive Sherlock Holmes, she thinks he vaguely resembled a strange, if slightly intriguing alien. She doesn't make much out of it, and continues to peer through her microscope. She knows he's a detective of sorts, and she knows he's supposed to be brilliant; she hasn't been (completely) living under a rock, after all. She's blissfully oblivious to the fact that this man would soon wreak havoc in her neatly organized world, and when he swooshes out of the room, she doesn't notice.

* * *

For weeks, the mysterious stranger flits in and out of Bart's, and for some inexplicable reason, she finds herself gradually being drawn to him, even though she hasn't even gotten a proper glimpse of him. She's not sure why, especially since he's not even her type. He's not warm or even particularly nice, and she can't help but feel attracted and repelled by his cold and aloof nature. Either way, he has the most beautiful kaleidoscope eyes that she has ever seen in her 32 years of life on this planet. Molly isn't sure why she's never noticed them before, but now that she has, she grudgingly admits to herself that they are quite exquisite. Now that she thinks about it, everything about him is beautiful. His slanted eyes, slashing cheekbones, cupid's bow lips, and that perfect, black mop of hair somehow combine to create a chaotic, if unconventional beauty that on any other man would seem bizarre. She decides that her strange fascination is only due to his mystery, and she continues working. He stays for another hour or so, but no one bothers to introduce her; she's just the intern, after all, and she can't quite make up her mind whether or not she likes that.

* * *

She succeeds in ignoring his presence for hardly another week before her overwhelming curiosity gets the better of her. She starts to walk over to approach him when the Detective Inspector calls him over, and he disappears once more. It's irrational, she knows, but she can't help but feel a sense of disappointment. She doesn't know his name, and hasn't even heard him speak, and she already knows that this one is something special. As she locks up and leaves a few hours later, she suddenly thinks of him again. She remembers his eyes and perfect cupid's bow mouth and can't stop herself from wondering what his laugh is like before banishing the thought from her mind.

* * *

When she goes to the pub with her girlfriends later that night, she doesn't mention the curious stranger haunting Bart's (and her mind). After Tina comments on her single-ness, she finally allows her to set up a blind date with some well-to-do banker. Even though this is the first date she's had in maybe months, she regrets this decision and instead gets rip roaring drunk. When she returns home two hours later, she's successfully purged the stranger with the crystal blue eyes, perfect cheekbones, and curly hair from her mind.

* * *

By the tenth time she sees him, she finally realizes that she still hasn't talked or made any form of contact with him since the first time she saw him nearly a month ago. He's just a presence, and they're just two people who happen to frequent the same place. Her out of necessity, and him out of...what? Morbid curiosity? She isn't sure, and she adds that to her ever growing list of mysteries. Molly finally gets her chance to speak with him when Mike leaves an hour early. She doesn't have to wait long before he swishes into the lab, followed closely by the Detective Inspector. And for the first time, he focuses those clear eyes at hers. Molly's world doesn't stop, nor does it slow. She does not fidget, or blush, or even blink, and she mentally commends herself for it. She ignores the uncomfortable sensation that comes with what she'll later learn is a just a side effect of Sherlock's deductions, and smiles brightly at the two men. D.I. Lestrade speaks first.

"Hello, is Mr. Stamford in?" He asks. Molly glances once at Sherlock, who returns her look with a piercing degree of apathy.

"He's just left for the day. Is there anything I can help you with?" She says, somewhat timidly. The D.I smiles reassuringly at Molly.

"Yes, could you please wheel out Andrew Wilson's body?" The stranger remains silent, and Molly grabs her key card and disappears around the corner. She returns only minutes later, and peeks at the man through her eyelashes as he scans the body. Molly notices the way his eyes dart around, focusing on seemingly irrelevant details, and she feels a sense of kinsmanship with this man. After what could only be a few moments, he speaks to her.

"Miss Hooper, if you could be so kind as to show me the tox report, please." He says this politely, but there is no warmth or kindness in his voice, only cold civility, as if he regarded her as nothing more than a means to find his solution. She wonders how he knew her name as she retrieves the document, and also thinks that his voice is every bit as beautiful as she had imagined. When he does examine the report, his upper lip curls in disgust.

"Idiots, blind, stupid FOOLS," he hisses suddenly before tossing the report callously onto a nearby table, and with an unhealthy degree of fascination, she watches him stalk around the table impatiently.

"Sherlock," Lestrade sighs, giving Molly an apologetic looks. Sherlock. Unusual name, she thinks, and also decides that it completely suits him. He whirls on Lestrade before focusing his attention once more on Molly.

"Miss Hooper. Self conscious, judging by the posture, incredibly shy, owns a cat; hairs on the sweater. Only child, just recently passed over for a promotion, even though you were the more eligible candidate." He scans her body again in the same manner he scanned Mr. Wilson's. "Single, graduated from...Imperial? No, King's. Fairly hardworking, and not paid nearly enough for her work." He pauses again to catch his breath before continuing, "Since you don't appear to be half as dimwitted as some of the nitwits hired here, perhaps _you_ could tell me the reason Mr. Wilson died? And don't bother lying, I know you've made your own deductions." Lestrade opens his mouth as if to intervene, but Molly cuts him off.

"Wow. That...that was amazing." Sherlock seems slightly taken aback by her praise, but remains silent. "He...committed suicide," She began hesitantly. Sherlock narrows his eyes at her disapprovingly.

"Yes, _Miss Hooper_, I read the reports. But you don't believe that, do you?"

Molly coughed slightly, and stared at him in defiance. "It's _Doctor_ Hooper, actually. I have a degree." A faint smile crosses his beautiful features for a moment. From the corner of her eye, Molly can see Lestrade shaking his head in amusement.

"Very well, _doctor_." She grins a little at her minor victory.

"No, I don't think it was suicide. Suicide wouldn't explain why the exit wound from the bullet is on the left side of his head. This could have been overlooked, but he was left handed." She gestures to the man's hands. "There's a callous on his left pinky from writing; we all have one. Why would he shoot himself with his non-dominant hand?" As she speaks, she becomes more animated, circling around the table. Reaching towards the man's right ear, she points to the back of it. "And that, looks suspiciously like lipstick." The implications of this are not lost on the consulting detective, and when she finishes, she is rewarded with the first smile she has ever seen from Sherlock Holmes.

"My thoughts precisely. Yes, she'll do. Much more competent than some of the other imbeciles employed here." He says to Lestrade, not even bothering to lower his voice. If Molly's surprised by his approval, she doesn't say anything and instead basks in his praise. He tosses a fancy, gold embossed business card on her desk, before whirling away, and she feels a strange sense of hope intermingled with pride.

* * *

When Molly arrives to work the next day, she sees a folder with a note attached that certainly wasn't there the evening before, and as she peers closer, she realizes it's from Sherlock.

_Doctor Hooper, _

_Thank you for your assistance yesterday. It was his lover. Please check on my tests and inform me of any developments._

_-SH_

Molly can't help but smile at his use of Doctor.

She's nearly done running his tests when Mike walks in. He glances at her paperwork before raising his eyebrows in shock.

"Are those...are those _Sherlock's_ files?" He stutters. Mike can't quite believe it; Sherlock never trusts anyone to handle his work. Molly doesn't know this, of course.

"Oh yes, I met him yesterday. Strange bloke isn't he? I found this on my desk today with a note asking me to inform him of any developments." She says, looking puzzled. "Why?" Stamford opens his mouth before shutting it again.

"Oh. No matter," Molly, who hasn't quite realized the significance or magnitude of Sherlock's respect, shrugs and walks away. And in the empty room, Mike simply shakes his head in disbelief before continuing with his work. He promotes her to full time less than a week later.

* * *

**Soooo...what'd you guys think? Please let me know! Reviews make my day, and if you're interested in more Sherlolly goodness, I have a longer story in progress right now (Collision Theory). I just had this idea bouncing around and I wanted to portray Molly meeting Sherlock. I may do a sequel from Sherlock's point of view if I get enough reviews requesting it (hint hint) ;)**

**Love,**

**Audrey**


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